


Back to Earth

by kathryne



Series: An ordinary hand [4]
Category: Grace and Frankie (TV)
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, F/F, Family Drama, Post-Season/Series 04, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-10
Updated: 2018-03-10
Packaged: 2019-03-29 15:48:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13930257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kathryne/pseuds/kathryne
Summary: It's time to face the kids.Part of a post-s4 series of ficlets from tumblr prompts about Grace and Frankie cuddling. These fics are not posted in chronological order, but they are organised that way within the series.





	Back to Earth

**Author's Note:**

  * For [aluckypenny](https://archiveofourown.org/users/aluckypenny/gifts).



> aluckypenny gave me cuddling-related prompts 'in public' and 'in lieu of a kiss,' and here we are!
> 
> Many thanks to chainofclovers for a great, thought-provoking beta. And thanks to ellydash for helping me decide [where to set this brunch](http://carolinesseasidecafe.com/).

The patio at Caroline's is full, as usual. 

Grace dragged Frankie to the café early, to make sure they got seats in the shade; now they're settled, drinks at hand, and there's still ten minutes before the kids are supposed to show. Across the sand, the waves wash against the shore, and maybe it's the rhythm, maybe it's the breeze ruffling Frankie's curls, maybe it's just that they're in public, but all Grace wants to do is kiss Frankie. Kiss her, and get her bare skin under Grace's fingers, undress her piece by piece and make her feel so good...

She reaches across the little space they've left between their chairs and rests her hand on Frankie's leg. Frankie looks away from the menu, up at her, and what she's thinking must show on her face, because Frankie goes bright red. Grace smiles innocently.

"Grace," Frankie says, strangled. "I thought we were going to keep things quiet."

"For now," Grace agrees. She squeezes Frankie's thigh. 

"You can't – holy fuck." Frankie takes a clumsy sip of her wine. "You can't _look_ at me like that, then."

"Like what?" Butter wouldn't melt. Grace flutters her eyelashes and edges her fingers a little higher.

"Like you want to _eat_ – "

"Thelma! Louise! My favourite fugitives." Brianna's strident voice cuts across their bubble of closeness and Grace jerks back. Turning the move into a grab for her screwdriver, she tips the glass at Brianna in wry greeting, covering as Frankie coughs and sputters.

Behind Brianna are Mallory and Coyote, and though she half-expected new parent Bud to be late, he's there too. She feels, suddenly, a little overwhelmed; she wants very badly to reach for Frankie again, but she doesn't.

"So nice to see you both." Brianna looms above them as the other kids catch up. Neither Grace nor Frankie gets up, though Coyote makes an abortive movement like he's going in for a hug, only to jerk back when he meets Frankie's eyes.

Grace nods at the empty chairs, raises her eyebrow; Brianna hesitates, but the other three sit obediently, and when Brianna gives in too, Grace is back on firmer ground.

"What the hell, Mom," Coyote says. "First you break out of Walden Villas, then you nearly disappear for weeks, and then you leave the country without telling us? What's going on?"

"I told you," Frankie protests weakly.

"Oh, yeah." Bud drops his phone on the table. "A text. 'Going to Paris. _À bientôt_.' So helpful. You didn't even say if you were coming back."

"I did so! That's what _à bientôt_ means. See you later. As opposed to _au revoir_ , goodbye, maybe forever, not that I wasn't tempted. Right, Grace?" Frankie looks slightly frantic.

"Right." Grace takes command of the table. "And that's not the point."

"Not the point? Anything could've happened." Bud crosses his arms, face set stubbornly. He looks just like his mother. Well, she's used to dealing with Frankie's intractability.

"Nothing did." Grace smiles, calmly. "Which is the point. Nothing happened, and now we want to have a nice brunch with our children and find out why they thought we couldn't take care of ourselves. Why they tricked us and took advantage." Her smile sharpens. "Or should we take another trip until you're ready to talk?"

"No – no. Mom." Mallory reaches out, ever the peacemaker, and Grace lets her take her hand briefly. "We've just been so worried. You understand, don't you?"

Grace turns to Frankie. "If you're having the French toast, get them to leave off the candied pecans," she says, ignoring the way Mallory's face crumples.

"Uh – only if you have something besides just the fruit bowl." Frankie summons a weak smile.

"Are you kidding me right now?" Brianna smacks the table. "You _ran away_ even though you can barely _stand_ , and now you want to play games."

"We didn't run away," Grace hisses, and only Frankie's hand on her knee keeps her from proving she can stand just fine. "We left that _fucking_ prison because _we didn't belong there_. And if you can't see _that_ , well, we're not the ones having problems with reality."

"Okay. Right. I can't – I can't do this." Bud gets to his feet. "You just keep pretending this is all fine, but I – I can't." He looks at Frankie, then away.

Brianna stands, frowning, and Mallory follows suit, leaving Coyote stuck, uncertain. When he finally gets up, he doesn't look happy about it.

"Call us when you want to have an actual discussion," Bud says. "And if you go swanning off to – to Thailand or wherever, leave a phone number, okay?"

Frankie looks like she wants to say something, but Grace wraps an arm around her shoulders. Frankie leans into her. This time, they'll present a united front.

Bud's lips thin. He glares at them. Beneath the anger, Grace can see real fear – on all the kids' faces – but she can't back down, for her sake and Frankie's.

"Okay," Brianna says finally. "Great talk. Let's do it again." She and Bud turn. 

"Love you," Coyote says before he and Mallory leave, and Frankie gives him a little wave. 

And then they're alone again.

"I'm sorry, Frankie," Grace says. "I know you hoped we could work things out."

"Yeah." Frankie doesn't move. "Too much to ask, huh."

Grace wants, again, to kiss her, to reassure her they'll get back to normal – a promise she can't make in words. Instead she pulls her closer. "They'll calm down," she says. "I guess we all will. And for now, at least we have – "

"French toast?" Frankie ventures.

Grace laughs. "I was going to say 'each other,' but yeah. French toast, too."

"Okay." Frankie sighs and sits upright. "Hey, I meant it about the fruit bowl, by the way."

"I know, honey. I'll have an egg scramble, all right?"

Frankie grins properly at that, and Grace smiles too. She puts her hand back on Frankie's thigh and leaves it there as they order, just because she can.


End file.
